


Remember to Remember Me

by Froideveaux_Cheese



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter might be a cannibal, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death, No mpreg, POV Hannibal Lecter, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Pregnancy, You Decide, but it's definitely there don't worry, seriously though Hannibal gets hella possessive hella fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froideveaux_Cheese/pseuds/Froideveaux_Cheese
Summary: Hannibal Lecter happens upon an interesting, curly-haired man in the maternity ward of the hospital, not realizing the encounter will change his life.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Original Female Character(s) - Brief
Comments: 14
Kudos: 266





	Remember to Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Minor Character Death and Pregnancy (Child survives, mother doesn't)
> 
> Out of an abundance of caution, and with recent events involving celebrities in the media, I want to be completely transparent about what happens in this fic. There's a pregnancy where the child survives but the mother doesn't, and Hannibal being the giant bag of dicks and psychopath he is, doesn't seem to care. The fic is from his POV, so while we do see a little from Will, Hannibal is Hannibal about it. They aren't out of character there. If that is something triggering to you, I BEG YOU please please please find another story to read. I recommend anything in my bookmarks, I've read them all a thousand times. 
> 
> Now that that's taken care of: oh my goodness, this is terrifying. The last fanfiction I wrote was probably 12 years ago and was badly written Star Wars Expanded Universe fanfic when I was 13. I've recently picked up writing again, when this little scene popped into my head, and I couldn't get it out.

It was quieter throughout the hospital halls than usual. It was still bustling with activity, as any hospital tends to be, however, there was a stillness that he had not felt in a while. Usually, stillness meant tragedy. He had known enough tragedy in his life to understand the quietude. 

With his usual job duties finished for the time being, he found himself traversing the floors of the various wards in search of its origin. To any passerby, he would simply be doing his job as a surgeon and doctor, checking up on his patients and lending a helping hand to whomever needed it, whether it be the nurses on duty, loved ones, or even the patients themselves. To do otherwise would be rude, and there was nothing more in the world he disliked more than rudeness. 

His wandering brought him to the maternity ward, a place he did not often visit. Spurred by his own curiosity, he continued onward, faithfully avoiding thinking any further of mothers and children so as not to reminisce on his own childhood. 

He was stopped fairly quickly by the sight of a man standing in front of the glass separating the hallway from the resting newborns in the nursery beyond. He only saw the man from the back, but the sharp, sweet smell his acute sense detected was sadness emanating from the man with wild curls and a plaid shirt. 

He moved closer to stand next to the curly-haired man if only to catch a glimpse at the profile of his face, and in doing so startled the man out of whatever reverie he had found himself in. 

“I did not mean to startle you,” he started, holding out a hand. “Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I am a surgeon here in this hospital.”

The curly-haired man seemed flustered, but quickly shook Hannibal’s hand in a grip he was surprised to find firm, given the man’s recent trance-like state. That did not stop Hannibal from finding the shorter man still somewhat twitchy, if not also surprisingly handsome.

“Will Graham,” Will said, turning his attention back to the rows of resting babies beyond the glass. Hannibal found the motion rather impolite, as he was sure that Mr. Graham would pointedly ignore him from then on and deprive Hannibal of detecting the source of his sadness, however, Will surprised him by asking, “What is a surgeon doing in the maternity ward?”

Hannibal smiled, caught. He would have to add astute to a growing list of adjectives for this Will Graham. “I was doing my rounds and had extra time. I believed an excursion to this area of the hospital might yield something, or someone, interesting,” he tilted his head. “I was right.”

Will levelled him with a look, “I don’t find you that interesting.” 

“You will.”

Will just smiled faintly, nodded, and once again returned his attention to the room. Hannibal, not one to lose such an opportunity, continued, “You now know what brings me here. I might ask the same of you.”

Will flinched minutely at the suggestion, so subtle that had Hannibal turned his attention to the babies himself he would not have seen the gesture out of the corner of his eye. But, as Hannibal was staring intently at Will, waiting for an answer, he could see it clearly, and he knew Will knew that as well. 

“I’m not sure you’d want to hear it,” the curly-haired man said, the sadness Hannibal had noticed earlier creeping into the edges of his voice. 

“Try me,” Hannibal replied. 

That’s when Hannibal saw it, in the baby blue eyes of his hallway companion. There was a flash of something there that Hannibal couldn’t quite place yet. He knew, though, that he would have no trouble discovering it in this man. 

“I met a woman a year ago, her name was Sarah. We dated for a few months, but then she broke things off. I don’t honestly blame her, but,” Will paused here, if only for a moment, “I really thought she might have been the one. Everything felt right. But after she let me go, I never heard from her. Until this morning.” 

This man, Will Graham, now had his full attention. He knew not where the story was going, nor why Will himself did not blame the woman he seemed to love for dissolving their relationship. “This morning?” Hannibal asked. 

Will nodded, “I got a call from the hospital. She went into labor, delivered, and listed me as the father on the birth certificate.” 

So this was a simple matter of surprise fatherhood. At that, Hannibal found himself a touch disappointed. At first, this man had seemed so interesting, smelling of sadness and disassociating with his environment. Hannibal opened his mouth to offer congratulations when Will spoke himself. 

“There were complications,” the man uttered quietly. “Sarah passed away.”

There it was. The quietude. The stillness. A motherless child. A single father. The unbelievable grief Will must have felt at the prospect of raising a child without his or her mother, of raising a child alone. Will Graham was being vulnerable with him, and Hannibal could tell that Will Graham was not often a vulnerable person. 

Will shook his head, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“You should. It’s difficult to keep those things bottled up inside. It’s important to let it out, lest you implode from the emotions themselves.”

Will wiped at the corner of his eye and remarked, “What are you a psychiatrist, too? I’m not a big fan of those.” 

So he had experience with psychiatrists? Hannibal himself was only very recently considering the change in profession, however, this little speck of information was filed once more into the Will Graham room in his mind palace. He knew not if he would see this man ever again, but he knew this room to be one he would visit often. 

“I have been considering a change in profession, but no, I am not a psychiatrist at present.”

Will huffed a laugh, “Well good.” 

There was silence for a moment.

“Did the hospital staff perform a paternity test on the child?” Hannibal asked. 

“Yes, the results will be back in a day or two, but I already know she’s mine. Fatherly intuition, I’m assuming,” Will responded. 

A daughter. A girl. 

Dangerously close to becoming vulnerable himself, Hannibal attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction, “Do you have any plans for her care?”

Will shook his head. “Don’t even have a name.”

He could feel it, sitting in the back of his skull, where it’s always at. Resting, waiting for an opportunity like this to rear its ugly head. Hannibal doesn’t know if he wants to let it, or to smother it more than he usually does. 

Will finally looked back at him with crossed arms, “Have you ever been a father?”

A daughter. A girl. 

Mylimas

He let silence fill a few moments, then found himself bearing his soul to this stranger.

“I was a father to my sister. Her name was Mischa.” 

“Was?”  
At this, Hannibal looked at Will, and Will, the keen man he was, understood. 

“Thank you,” Will whispered, recognizing the weight of what Hannibal had revealed to him. In an attempt to steer clear of more vulnerability and emotions, which was certainly uncommon for these two men, Will spoke soon after, “You must have work to get back to. No need to stand here with little old me as I ponder baby names and what crib to buy.” 

Hannibal then took a moment to truly study Will as Will himself turned back to the nursery. He noticed the man focusing on one baby in particular, a newborn swathed in pink near the front of the glass. Hannibal noted the man’s clothes, his bone structure, the curve of his lips, and especially his eyes that saw so much. He turned to leave, having fleshed out his memory palace room featuring the handsome man beside him, but surprised himself by asking, “How long will you be here? I’d like to speak again before you leave.”

Will turned to him, surprised, but managed to reply, “Another day, at least, to get the results back and make arrangements.” 

Hannibal nodded and smiled. “Well then I hope to see you again, Mr. Graham.”

“Um, Will. Just Will.”

It was there again, in Will’s sharp eyes. That emotion Hannibal couldn’t place. Hannibal silently wished by their next meeting he will have identified the look in Will’s eyes. For now, however, he began to move himself away from the man with a simple nod and acknowledgement, “Will.”

The day and night progressed from there, still Hannibal could not seem to shake the brief meeting he had with Will Graham. Perhaps it was the look in the curly-haired man’s eyes that had yet to be discovered. Or maybe it was the history of psychiatry and trouble with romantic partners. There was a third possibility, one Hannibal did not want to even admit to himself. 

Yet there he was the next day, practically rushing through his daily tasks, uncharacteristic of him, in order to catch one more glimpse of the handsome man that had consumed so much of his thoughts the previous night. By the afternoon, when his tasks had slowed down considerably, Hannibal once again found himself roaming the halls of the maternity ward searching for the tell-tale curls and plaid of the man he had met the day before. 

It didn’t take him long. Will was sitting on the floor of the hallway, his back to the nursery this time, and his phone in twitchy, sweaty hands. Hannibal instantly knew the man was on edge, most likely due to the fact that the child might be ready to go home. That always made new parents nervous, the fear of letting go of the aid that the nurses and doctors provided at the hospital in the days after the birth.

Will actually smiled up at him, “I was wondering if I’d see you before we left.”

“So everything is settled, then? Your daughter is ready to go home?” Hannibal asked. 

Will nodded. “Everything is ready to go. Even her name.” 

Hannibal finally returned Will’s smile. “Excellent. May I ask what you’ve decided upon?”

Will seemed a bit reluctant to answer, and at once Hannibal wondered if he had perhaps overstepped, but Will continued, “I hope it’s okay.” 

“Why would it not be?”

Will sighed, “I thought at first I might name her after my mother, then I realized that was a bad idea. My mother left when I was too young to remember. Then I thought I might name her after Sarah. But, I don’t think Sarah would have wanted that.” Will paused, obviously contemplating his next words. “There was only one other name I couldn’t get out of my head.” 

Hannibal isn’t expecting the name when it comes from Will’s lips. 

“Mischa.”

A daughter. A girl. 

Mylimas

In the five seconds it takes Hannibal to respond, a million thoughts run through his head. 

His first thought is of blonde curly hair, grey eyes, and twirling, all she ever wanted to do was play and twirl until she was sick. 

He then remembered the coldest of winters. Starvation. Teeth. Those thoughts do not last long, he made sure of that. 

Then, he remembered the man in front of him, the devastatingly handsome man with issues of his own and eyes as blue as the sea. 

That’s when he truly saw the man’s eyes, the emotion that had taken him so long to place. Will Graham was lost, disoriented, adrift in his sea blue eyes during a terrible storm and Hannibal needed to be his paddle. 

No, not his paddle. 

Hannibal needed to be his lighthouse, to guide him back to shore, back to Hannibal himself. 

Hannibal saw it then, the future he never knew he wanted but now knew he needed. A partner, his curly haired, twitchy husband standing by while he prepared dinner for themselves and their child, a beautiful girl with bouncing chestnut curls and a bubbly personality who always wanted to play and twirl. Mischa. His daughter. Mylimas dukra. 

“Is that okay?” Will asked after Hannibal’s silence. 

Ripped from his stream of thoughts, Hannibal made a decision there and then that would change all of their lives. “The first few weeks with a newborn can be difficult. Allow me to bring you some dinners to help. I am very particular about what I put in my body, and cooking is a passion of mine.” When Will began to protest, Hannibal cut him off, “I must insist. If you’d prefer, I could merely drop off the meals, however, I would like to get to know you and Mischa better.” 

Will attempted to put up a fight. “I live in Virginia, which is a little ways from here. I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way to help.” 

“It would be my pleasure. I would drive hours if it meant getting to know you better.”

Will blushed slightly at the implication, however continued, “Well, then, we’ll see how it goes. I could definitely use the help.”

Of course Hannibal would help. He would give this beautiful man and his daughter anything in the world. 

After exchanging information and returning to his post, Hannibal made a note to stop by the boutique baby store on his route home from the hospital to get Mischa some extras he’s sure Will would not have first purchased upon getting ready to bring her home. 

After all, he would have only the best for his partner and daughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I don't have any plans on continuing this, but if someone else wants to, that would be cool. If not, enjoy this little snippet and let your imaginations run wild on what the season one plotline would look like with a little Mischa Graham-Lecter running around. 
> 
> I also did little to no research about practically anything in this fic. Hospital knowledge is only what I know from growing up with a nurse for a mom. Who knows if sadness actually has a smell. A lot of Hannibal's history is up for interpretation, I didn't have anything in mind other than the hand-wavey way the show handles it as well. All this fic is is me itching the writing bug and having something to do on a lonely Friday night. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


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